


All This Could Expire

by cosita



Category: Death Note
Genre: Addiction, Drabble, M/M, Placebo - Freeform, Song - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosita/pseuds/cosita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can you control a growing addiction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All This Could Expire

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea from the song My Sweet Prince by Placebo.
> 
> I have posted this fanfic on both FF.net and Mibba about one/two years ago, so incase it seems familiar to you - that is why. :) I also changed some of the wording a bit and tried to fix a lot of the typos I had before.
> 
> I don't own Death Note or its characters.

My Sweet Prince

xxx

And there they were once again; alone and joined, and oh so bitterly happy. The chain clanked against the metal bars surrounding the bed; their heaven, if only for the briefest of moments. Their bodies were slick with sweat and close together. The room was filled with heavy breathing and bed sheets rustling and the beautiful harmony they'd make – even if the reasons were the farthest thing from beautiful.

This wasn't love – nothing of the sort. It was desperation; an unfair game; a small way to pass the time; curiosity to see who would fall the hardest. They'd be damned if they'd feel the slightest hope of love. Love was weakness, and therefore, forbidden.  
There was no logic in this twisted play of acts, just broken justice and made up rules. They knew this; they could taste it every time their lips would mold together, and their bodies were intertwined so much closer and deeper than that godforsaken chain could ever make them.

No, this wasn't love; it was all hate that built in the pit of their stomachs'; it was hate that drove them to do the unspeakable. Because without that hate there wasn't a game, and without a game, then what the hell were they fighting for?  
So, in a closet or on the bed is where they'd find each other every day; and through all that it became so much easier to push each other's buttons, pull each other's strings, and tug and scratch and tear and destroy each other to find anything that they could use to prove who they really were. Cause that was all they needed in order to utterly break them in two; to kill them.

It'd be so uncomfortable for the both of them, but oh they wanted so much more. Plea mercy to the heavens and everything sacred that it would never ever end, but it did, and every time that feeling at the pit of their stomach would grow until it became hard for either of them to breathe, and only then would they allow that small amount of likeness to escape and blind them.  
Only then would they allow each other to love.

Rivals were all they could ever be: one would always be the killer, and one would always be the detective. One of them would have to die in order for the other to live. They both knew that, they knew everything that's happened between those short periods of time was now coming to an end. But it didn't stop them to get what they selfishly wanted every now and then. They knew their addiction was consuming them; they could taste it on their rose tainted skin. 

And how exactly do you go about riding an addiction; by letting your greed take and take, poising the body and letting it kill you first?

Or killing it off yourself.


End file.
